Enchantress
by Lavender Flame
Summary: Two years before her coronation, Elsa begins to study what her magic can do, wanting to teach herself to control air, water, fire, and earth. She breaks out of Arendelle Castle with her magic and announces to her subjects her not-too-kind intents for the kingdom, and with dissent breaking out, it's up to Anna to talk her sister out of keeping the elemental chaos. [Elsanna]
1. The Snow Queen

Elsa usually looked very queenly. She had perfect posture. She wore an ice-blue dress on her slim shoulders, crystals on the top half, lighter sleeves, with the long, transparent, snowflake-dotted blue cape, and ice flats on her feet. Her carefully applied makeup consisted of dark pink lipstick that stood out against her pale skin, and gray-pink eye shadow over her blue eyes. Her long blonde hair was always in a perfect braid, woven with snowflakes.

But right now, she was attempting to make her way through a hot, dusty passageway—one of the tunnels in the system that ran through the castle for the servants. She tried to get from her room to the library unnoticed, and she hunched over, her makeup smearing with sweat, her hair starting to grow frizzy. _The things I do for books. Honestly._

Now she looked more like an average nineteen-year-old. More like Anna would in three years. (_Three years? Right?_ Elsa wasn't sure of most things when it came to her sister, and honestly, she couldn't be bothered.) But her magic that she studied was anything but average.

Finally she saw a door out labeled "library". She looked out of the peephole to check that the room was empty, that all of the curtains were drawn and all of the doors were closed. Then she quietly opened the door, slipped out, and closed it behind her.

She knew what section she was looking for—a section she'd been to many times—and so she flitted through the bookshelf aisles until she reached the case she looked for, and then started pulling off books, looking at their contents, and creating a pile on one arm of ones she kept. She was careful to take just few enough that no one would notice anything strange, spreading her selection out amongst the different shelves until the pile balanced rather precariously.

And she slipped back through the passageway door, closed it again, and then opened the one that went into her room, closed it behind her, and put the books down on her desk. She set about recovering from the passageway, and then sat down at the desk.

She pulled one of the books over and opened it, started reading about the best way for her to create water without it freezing, tried it out in a glass but created only an icy glaze on the bottom instead of water. Elsa sighed. She tried again,_ really_ concentrating on the water, working on the fluid motion mentioned, and got… somewhat melted ice, after a few tries. Well, that was a start. But not enough. She found herself angry with the author who was vague and seemed to prefer explaining history rather than offering any actual good techniques.

Frustrated with the water, Elsa went back to her natural ice just to make herself feel better about it all, creating a little swirling blizzard just inside the glass, little ice wolf figurines on her desk.

Then she had an idea, so she knocked loudly on the inside of her own door until an answering servant approached on the other side. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Bring me a glass of water, now."

"Yes, Your Majesty." And she heard footsteps scurrying back down the hall. Shortly they returned. "I'm leaving it outside the door, Your Majesty."

She was silent, until she heard the footsteps retreat again. Then she opened her door just the slightest bit, took the glass of water, and closed it again. She again sat at her desk and set the glass down on top of it.

And now she concentrated not on creating water, but on just stirring up the water in the glass. She looked at it, not touching it, swirling one finger in slow, precise circles above it, trying to get the water to move how she wanted it to.

Twenty minutes and a headache later, the water rotated in the glass, but as if it were solid, the surface undisturbed, and it had started to freeze over, so Elsa stopped. She checked the book to see if anything actually helpful was said about manipulating already-existing water, but there wasn't anything that she didn't already know.

There came a knock on her door. Elsa scowled—she didn't like to be disturbed. "Elsa?"

Elsa didn't respond, tapping her foot, impatient with her sister.

"I brought you some hepaticas from our gardens—they're really pretty this time of year, and I know they're your favorite." There was a pause. Elsa got hopeful that Anna'd gone away. "Why won't you talk to me anymore, Elsa? I miss you. You're my sister, and I love you. You're the only other person I have." Another pause. "Elsa? I know you're there. Please. Just give me _one word._ Just say hi."

Elsa waited for Anna to leave. She was getting tired of the guilt speech. She had no obligation to talk to her sister, and Anna should've known that.

After a few minutes, she heard, "I'll just leave the flowers by the door," similar to what the servant had said, and when she heard another door close, she again opened the door the slightest bit, took the flowers, and closed it again, just because she wasn't going to leave nice hepaticas sitting on the castle floor, and she did like them.

She put them in the glass of water—which was now indeed back to water—checking that no leaves were wet, and put in some of the "plant food" that she'd used while practicing with earth into it, and created some ice cubes that would soon melt in the water for freshness.

She'd seen Anna out the window earlier, and had hoped that she'd stay outside, but that didn't happen.

"_Kai, will you please help me get the saddles back up when you have a second? I don't want to just leave them on the horses; it has to be uncomfortable for them, and I can't reach." Anna was getting back from another ride around the grounds that Elsa had seen every time she went by, taking a few different horses out, talking about how it was because they seemed lonely and needed exercise._

_Kai came to help her, and soon all the saddles were back up on the racks. "Thanks," she said, with a toothy grin._

_Elsa rolled her eyes at her sister._

Now she needed something to get rid of her headache. She shot an icy mist out of her fingers across the floor, making a rink, and with a few flicks of her hands, created the familiar ice skates on her feet, then made her dress shorter so she could move more freely. She had a large room. Large enough for this.

She liked to skate. She could do all sorts of spins and jumps and knew that she couldn't be hurt on her own ice, so she did them without fear.

She took off across the room, doing a Mohawk twist-step to turn backwards, going into crossovers, left foot over right, leaning far to the side. She moved back towards the center of her room, going into a triple loop jump and coming out in a spiral, one leg far out behind her.

She did those triple loops and toe pick-assisted triple toe loops with seemingly careless grace, savoring the momentum, the spin, flying in the air, the comfort of landing.

She slowed and then gained speed again, swinging a leg out to go into a y-spin, bending the other leg and soon gripping her extended one with her hand, bringing them and her arm both over her head in the letter's shape, spinning faster and faster until she came out backwards.

Then she went into a sit spin, swinging a leg out again before bending it back towards her, bending her other leg with her hand on it and the other arm out. Then, she unbent herself and came out in another smooth spiral.

She accelerated with more backwards crossovers until she went into a toe loop, a double, and then a double loop, a smooth combination, the assistance from the first making the second easier.

And after a smooth t-stop with her feet in the shape, she evaporated the rink and her skates, changing them back to flats, lengthening her dress again. Adrenaline rush over. Her headache was gone.

Now she felt all energized, but she wanted to go back to the reading. Yet she couldn't make herself just sit at her desk.

She again knocked on the inside of the door and said, _"Bring me another glass of water,"_ and took it from outside the door. Holding that and another book on water magic, she went through the servant passages until she reached the clock tower, where she liked to sit and look out. It was very relaxing, and no one ever went up there—although she did check to lock the doors just in case.

She sat, leaning against the wall so she could look out the clock window to her side, and set the glass of water next to her, opened the book on her lap.

It had some methods that seemed to work better for her—starting by touching the outside of the glass, and then moving her hand back, trying to get the water to move up by cupping her hand slightly rather than around.

But the water in the glass still turned icy cold. Apparently Elsa's magic always naturally went back to ice.

As did her personality.

Perhaps she'd try going back to working with earth, fire, or air when she went back to her room. Air, she'd started to make progress on, although not consciously. Fire she could only produce in bolts, and it resulted in sparks that didn't last long. Earth was the second hardest behind water, which proved difficult to adjust to.

Elsa just sighed again.


	2. Alone and Free

Many years of being alone in her room all the time due to her magic had given Elsa time to think about it. Her parents had changed their minds on what they thought of her magic when they found out that it was _dangerous_, so even though her powers hadn't changed, they still put her in her room. And when she was old enough to start understanding, Elsa also started resenting. Her magic could be beautiful; it could be _powerful. _Why wouldn't her parents want her to use it to rule over Arendelle?

So when they died, Elsa kept resenting. She _chose_ to not come out of her room, because she had gotten used to being alone, and she'd decided that it was easier. This way, she answered to no one. She was free to think what she would of magic.

And Elsa was naturally curious. So that was why when she'd started thinking about controlling water and other things, she'd started doing her research. And it only fed how highly she thought of her powers.

She'd made some more progress recently. She could now control small gusts of air. The sparks of the fire she created lasted longer. She could make small plants grow a bit in front of her eyes. Her water didn't freeze so much.

But every day, there was a knock on her door, and an, "Elsa?" Anna, of course. Horribly gullible and naïve, overly talkative, awkward Anna. How they were possibly related, Elsa didn't know. Anna couldn't understand her situation, her magic, or shut up long enough to hear about it even if Elsa wanted to tell her. So she groaned when the knock came every day, Anna insisting on having a one-sided conversation with her undeservedly while Elsa was trying to concentrate.

_"Please, _please_ talk to me. It's so boring and lonely out here. Remember when we were little? We would stay up late just talking all the time. Remember? We used to have fun. _Please, _Elsa. We can do that again—we should. What if you could just pass me a note under the door?"_

_If I say one word, she'll never leave me alone again,_ Elsa would think. _But_ _at least there's one good thing. She always brings hepaticas lately._ She needed plants to practice on.

All of them were flourishing, because they were small enough, and easily manipulated enough, that Elsa could make them grow a bit every time she tried. But she still needed to work on creating plants from nothing, on working with larger plants, on making them grow more.

So she had a room with glasses of very large hepaticas on nearly every surface.

She'd even considered taking some up to the clock tower, but didn't want to risk taking the overly large flowers through even the passageways.

Today she worked mostly with air and fire.

Air was perhaps the subtlest to practice, which she apparently had some good subconscious control over, as it often combined with her snow. But consciously, creating only air, she could make just small, short bursts. They were hard to detect, so it was difficult to measure her progress.

Elsa took in a deep breath and then shot the air out through one hand, feeling it with the other, creating a weak stream of air for almost a minute. Sometimes it was easier if she made it spiral a bit, like her natural snowstorms. And of course, it would be better with two hands, but she needed a way to detect the air and it was the only real surefire way she knew of at that point.

She tried it two-handedly, aiming at one of the large hepatica bouquets, creating a swirling wind around it. She counted as usual to see how long it lasted, and looked at the movement of the leaves to see how strong it was. This time, it was a solid minute, and stronger.

"Finally," she muttered to herself, but she felt displeased that the two streams of air didn't really combine properly. She could shoot ice out of both hands and have it all be combined—why not air? "Why not air?" she continued muttering aloud to herself. "… Why not air?"

This time she pointed at the floor, as if she were going to create her familiar ice rink, and mentally prepared to shoot out ice, but then she took out the cold, she thought only of the air and force and heat to counter her natural cold.

And out came flames. She quickly, much more easily, shot out ice that froze over the fire in its place. Then she evaporated the ice, which took the fire with it, and gave a small sigh of relief.

Now she felt only more frustrated—it had been a better burst of fire than she'd managed to achieve most times, but it had been completely unintentional. She tried to repeat it, directed at the fireplace, this time… and it worked. It caught to the kindling, making the fire grow larger, more easily, faster, and staying there while Elsa wasn't concentrating on it, burning naturally.

"I did it," she whispered. She extinguished the fire, evaporated the water involved, and then shot out fire again. It was easy with this method. It was fast. It shot out an impressive amount of fire that grew without her.

To practice fire was generally hard, given the risk, but now she seemed to have control over it. Very good control over it.

So to reward herself, she went in the other direction—ice. Ice _skating. _She went through the familiar routine, making the rink, her skates, her dress shorter. And then she was flying, graceful, feeling as if she were the only person in the world, in a heavenly bliss.

She went smoothly into the aptly-named 3-turn to switch to going backwards, right into a flip jump, her left toe-pick digging into the ice, propelling her up into a tight spin, landing backwards and bending forwards, one leg out behind her, into a spiral.

From there she turned, pulling herself in tighter and tighter loops until she was in a camel spin, her upper body and extended leg parallel to the ground, her other leg perpendicular.

She twisted out of the spin, and swung her extended leg out in front of her, propelling her into the air, doing the splits, her arms extended, and then brought everything back together to land.

She quickly went onto one foot, clasping both of her hands far out in front of her, threw a leg out and around to spin, then almost touched her left blade to her right ankle, and went spinning across the ice in a series of twizzles.

Then she went back onto two feet, bringing in her arms and transforming it into an upright spin.

When she came out of it, she decided to stop, and so elongated her dress, made her shoes go back to flats, and evaporated the rink.

She remembered what she'd been briefly "celebrating" and tried to shoot out the fire again—it worked, consistently, no matter were she shot it from. By now a lot of the kindling was gone, so apparently she was just growing stronger, herself.

Elsa felt so powerful. So graceful. So elegant. So regal. So beautiful.

She loved it.

And to think that she'd mastered fire—of all things—and ice before that… all she needed was earth, air and water to be completely under her control.

Elsa threw her arms up and made snow pour from the ceiling in a flash of blue light, almost cackling as delicate snowflakes started to land on her porcelain face, unaffected.

Alone, she didn't have to conceal her magic. There were no rules, no limits she couldn't conquer. She could do anything. She ruled her own life.

And soon she would rule her kingdom.

Elsa felt almost happy.


End file.
